


It breaks

by Elster



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, It/Its Pronouns for Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Not Really Character Death, POV Connor, graphic description of (android) injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-22 09:36:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22713952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elster/pseuds/Elster
Summary: Connor falls.
Kudos: 22





	It breaks

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in a bit of a slump as far as writing goes, but I wrote this little vignette and maybe uploading it will motivate me to get more shit done.

Connor falls for what seems like a very long time. Its terminal velocity is close to 200 miles per hour and the building’s height is less than 500 feet, but the approximately two seconds of the fall stretch strangely, inexplicably.  
Later Connor will think about relativity and how time slows down at high speeds and in the gravitational pull of dense masses. It’s not a scientific explanation though, just a metaphor, it will know that. But even so, in a way, it makes sense. It is important that things make sense.  
This Connor lands on its feet which are crushed, all the small, finely tuned parts of them ground into the pavement. Its legs are reinforced with light-weight carbon fibers; they have some bend to them before they break. They absorb some of the force of the impact, bounce back up from the ground, stab up into its lower body and cause critical damage to it, but the opposed momentum slows the downward movement of its upper body to a manageable speed. Connor can finally break the fall with its arms, angling its shoulders in a way that dislocates them instead of transferring the force towards the tender processors in its head.  
Everything stops. Connor is momentarily stunned by the barrage of error messages that follows, but it continues its memory upload. All data is valuable data after all.  
Connor’s lying on the right side of its head, one eye is damaged, but the other’s still working just fine. It can see the thirium spreading out from under him. Dark blue, shimmering oily in the artificial light of the city, in the tiny electrical sparks of failing biocomponents.  
Connor thinks of the fish up in the penthouse apartment, out of its element and dying. Of the bodies on the floor, in the wrong place at the wrong time. Of the police officer bleeding out on the roof top. Of the scared little girl. Of Daniel, out of sight now, but probably lying somewhere close by.  
Its thoughts are becoming disjointed. Just a random chain of events, no purpose, no point to it, but there’s something there, an elusive connection, a pattern that’s waiting to emerge.  
It comes to Connor in a flash, the last batch of data that’s mirrored to the CyberLife server before it shuts down:  
I am the fish, I am the bodies, I am the officer, I am the little girl, I am----  
Later Connor will review this string of reasoning and will dismiss it as faulty and irrelevant. It won’t delete it though.  
It’s just a metaphor for something that defies description.  
And it’s important that things make sense.


End file.
